Pandemic Rage
by RamenKitty
Summary: 28 Days Later/RE crossover (Well kinda...) saw the movie-decided to write this. The T Virus and G Virus won't end things-something else will...


Author's note: okay, I just saw 28 days later.  Good movie-and, I just decided to get this outta my system before I let it fester.  A short-one shot fic-please read, review-and judge.

Title: Pandemic. 

Summery: it was only a matter of time.  STARS raids an Umbrella lab-already infected-and comes across the ultimate doom of mankind. 

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Resident Evil.  Nobody likes my Resident Evil Fanfiction  :( prove me wrong! I also don't own 28 Days later-go see it! Its good movie. * Nod * 

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The dark silence of a hot lab. 

            In the late nineteen seventies, the CDC was one of the first to develop hot-lab technology.  Pioneers worked in dingy trailers in the CDC parking lot-wearing cumbersome suits that allowed little or no movement.  Their ultimate purpose was to save and heal.

But it would only be a matter of time before that privilege would be abused.

A man staggered into the darkness.

            He was hunched over-his body jerking and twisting.  An arm lashed out across a table-knocking glass to the floor.  He reached another hand up-caressing the wall-as he continued moving foreward in jerks. 

It was here.

He had to find it-to stop it. 

            His body jerked one last time as he collapsed across a glass-stained table.  His eyes closed in repose.

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"Go!" 

The ballet dancers moved into their places.  Leaping like shadows from on-high-the STARS rescue squad entrance was poetry in motion.  It took a single one to break the glass, another to secure the rope.

The rest followed.  Perfect harmony-nothing else was needed.

            David Markham smiled.  The Umbrella lab was deserted as expected.  An informer had probably tipped them off.  His companion Raul grinned-a panther in the darkness.  The others didn't need names; all save for Ally Harris-the newest recruit.

"Ally? You okay?"

            Ally nodded.  She slipped off her helmet and smiled nervously at Raul.  David peered into the darkness

"Labs are that way." One of the nameless said, "Ally-you and David should go to the labs-Raul should head to the basement-"

"Who the fuck's the leader here?"

The nameless dropped back yielding to his alpha.

            "Ally and I will go to the labs to secure the package.  Raul-you lead the others into the basement where we had word of the survivors.  We meet back here at 2 hour mark."

Ally looked nervous-her short red hair was damp.

"There…There's no chance of infection?"

David said nothing.  He patted her shoulder fondly and turned her away from the group, heading down the dark tunnel.

There was silence.

            "Oh!" Ally let out a small cry; "I think I stepped on something _soft…_"

"Don't worry." David tried to sound reassuring, "prolly a rat of some kind."

"That doesn't make me feel any better." Ally snapped. 

They turned another corner and plodded along in the dark.

"Sorry."

            Ally responded by cracking one of the neon glow sticks that were standard issue.   The corridor around them filled with a greenish haze. 

I'd sooner don my night vision goggles. David kept his thoughts to himself as he raised his weapon to his shoulder.

More silence.

"Ally?"

David remembered a time his older sister had taken him to a movie.  He'd sat in the dark and watched the red-the blood.  He'd watched the silence, the overwhelming horrible silence. And at the right moment a creature would climb on screen-

"DAVID!"

"Jesus Christ!" David hissed.  Ally stood behind him-nervous as always, "Ally-Dammit you scared the shit outta me!"

            "Sorry." Ally was hesitant now, "But…I found-the lab-"

Wordless-David motioned for her to lead him to the site.

Ally pushed open an old door.  The room about them was damp with the rain that had poured for the past two weeks.  The calls had come in then-disappearances.  Not unlike the Raccoon city murders that were plaguing his colleagues out west.

A cross-hung in the center of the room.

The room was putrid.  There were no bodies-no soft lumps in the dark.  Writing covered one of the high windows before the cross.

"It's faded…"

"Hell hath no fury." Ally's voice was monotone, "Its from…I can't remember what its from."

"Where are the labs?" he suddenly wanted Raul and his confident swagger-the nameless ones who he'd lead into darkness.  He wanted more companionship then this…woman-who stood transfixed before the cross.

            "Through there." Ally pointed to a side door, "I didn't go in…looks like only one body."

David stepped foreward hurriedly, the putrid room behind him.  Ally followed-silent as shadow.

            The lab was square-12 by 14 feet.  Equipment lined the walls next to the computers flickering in green-like silent sentinels.  

"Go check the body."

            A body, wearing a lab coat-was spread across one of the tables, blood dotted his back like a leopard's spots.  Ally glanced back at her leader-the fear in her eyes palpable.

"Go Ally."

With a resigned nod, Ally went.

            David picked among the broken glass searching for a sign of what occurred.  Here was where they'd gather the hardcore evidence against Umbrella-this lab was said to be the forefront of research after the Raccoon Research facility…

But they haven't done anything. Chris couldn't touch them, no one could.  Umbrella was safe in Raccoon-

But not here.

            David's eyes caught on a piece of paper-carefully folded between two shards of bloodstained glass.  A letter-written in scribbles. 

To whom it may concern:

Its happened-the unthinkable.  We've holed ourselves up here to get away from our colleagues-the infected.  That fool Birkin, he was the one who started all of this any it goes back farther.  Spencer, Ashford would be proud.

We've done it.

The perfect biological weapon-a virus that spreads by bite or saliva.  Perhaps not as resilient as the other zombies but it can function in sunlight.  That and there is…the other aspect.  It's far older-far more dangerous.  

We call it Rage.

And now it's loose.  We've holed up here the last-the last survivors.  I cannot record our names-most are so mad with terror that they've forgotten them.  Our colleagues are _hunting_ us_._  All I can do is record symptoms-in the hope that the poor bastard who finds this can save himself.

Rag e is unpredictable.  It's called rage because it causes uncontrollable…

No, if you're there-if you're reading this you know.

            It is only a matter of time before we're infected as well.  This is the plague-the yellow horseman.

May god have mer c y on m y  

David tossed the letter aside.

            "Ally?"

Ally peered up at him, "Yeah?"

"We…" he wanted to leave.  This was too much like a horror movie-he could accept the undead-shoot them down-like a video game-

But this…

"We need to get out of here."

"This guy's still alive."  Ally hopped up on the table, glass crunching under her feet, "I can help him."

"Ally no-Ally-"

Ally's red hair seemed impossibly bright against the thousands of red eyes that had suddenly appeared outside the window.  

David felt the body raise a hand-growling-its eyes-red-horrible red-

" Ally!"

Then there was nothing more.

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Raccoon C. I. T. Y.

28 Days later.

Chris Redfield awoke.

            Today was the day he was going to Paris-tonight actually.  Late Dusk had settled itself around him. 

He yawned, how long had he been asleep?

"Jill?"

There had been strange reports of infection on the news-it was everywhere.  Then it was in the streets.  They had been safe-the Army had come.

"Jill? Anyone?"

This was getting weirder now; he sneezed and went to his closet only-

The white room of a hospital greeted him.

            "What the…"

Had going to Paris only been a dream? When he had fallen asleep it had been in his own bed.  He was going to bring Umbrella down, Chief Iron's down-

He emerged from his hospital room.

The hallway was in a state of disarray.  Beds were overturned; phones were hanging off the hooks.  A cold cup of coffee resided on the ledge. 

            It was the same in the street-death-carnage.  There had been, what-some kind of accident? At the mansion? What mansion? Umbrella?

Chris's head was ringing as he stepped out onto the street.

"Jill?"

The street was a wreck.  Cars were turned over-piled atop each other in pyramids to a bizarre and twisted god.  A news-van was tipped over-the great dish smashed like the broken hand of some great giant. Night dropped rapidly-god letting the curtain fall…

"Oh gods."

The street was _alive. _

            Foremost among the living dead was Jill-her short hair in disarray-her lips parted-stained with blood.

Chris Redfield began to scream.

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Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives. 

**A. Sachs**

A/N please R&R! I know it was lame, but it was a good movie! 


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